


The Son of Poseidon and the Boy Who Lived

by WerepuppyBlack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 19:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2440739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WerepuppyBlack/pseuds/WerepuppyBlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanks to the fact that Zeus owes him, Percy is able to travel over to England with his Mom and Paul to meet relatives that Sally had recently managed to get back in touch with. Petunia, Vernon and Dudley and all pretty much the normal kind of mortal. But Percy's new cousin, Harry? Well, he's different. And Percy knows different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The trip really wouldn't have come off if Zeus, frankly, didn't owe Percy a hell of a lot more than he had requested. More so, the King of the Gods was fully aware as to the depth of which he was in Percy Jackson's debt, and it irritated him, to say the very least about it. It was embarrassing, the King of the Gods owing a mere demigod such an expanse of favour. Worst still it being his own brother's son meant he'd never hear the end of it. When it came down to it, allowing him safe passage in the skies for his Mother to take him on a trip to meet the British side of the family, well, it was simple enough to do. Which is how Percy Jackson found himself at London's Heathrow Airport with his Mom, and Paul, pushing the luggage cart along to where they would get their cab to take them to the motel that Sally had booked online.

Yeah, he wasn't entirely sure what to think of being in the United Kingdom. Annabeth had been excited for him to be able to go, going on about the buildings just in and around the capital of England that she'd like to see, and Percy got a little confused at her listing off all of these places. After all, the place looked tiny on any maps he squinted at, it couldn't contain all that much, right? (That had earned him a sharp look and a lecture on how the United Kingdom used to be one of the greatest powers in the world, and some of the most infamous demigods had come from its isles, and he sort of tuned out. It wasn't that he was trying to be rude, but when Annabeth got really on to a topic, she tended to go at a pace that was really hard for Percy to keep up with.) Anyway, he was in England, and he was there to visit relatives on his Mom's side that she hadn't seen since she was in high school, though they'd kept in contact via letters.

“My cousin Petunia has a son about your age, Percy,” Sally smiled over at him, as Percy gazed drowsily out of the cab window. “You remember me mentioning him to you?” She pressed. Truth be told, she was a little concerned that his tendency to 'tune out' of conversations that were flowing too fast for him would mean that he had never really picked up on the name. And for a moment, it looked like her concern might be pertinent, considering that Percy screwed up his face in thought.

“That'd be … Harry, right?” he asked, blinking slightly, clearly hoping he'd gotten it right. Sally gave a small shake of her head, and Paul smiled over at Percy, in a shared gesture of having made the same mistake. “That's Lily's son,” he explained to Percy. “Dudley is Petunia's son, but since Lily … passed,” Paul always felt like he had to be delicate around the subject of death, considering how close Percy often came to it. Percy personally wouldn't have cared if he was upfront about it, but he appreciated the effort to try to be aware of his feelings. “Well, Petunia and her husband have been looking after Harry as well.”

“If her letters are anything to go by, it's a struggle,” Sally added in a conversational tone. “Harry's, well, he's _difficult_. According to Petunia,” she hastened to add. Difficult. Percy had heard that before. Usually being used by his guidance counsellors to describe him. Already he felt a bit of a connection with his cousin, Harry. Not so much with Dudley, but then the only thing he could dimly remember from any of the letters is that Petunia described him as her perfect little angel. That always made him squirm uncomfortably, he probably didn't give his Mom much to write praises about. Well, not much that she could actually expect anyone to believe, at any rate. The rest of the cab ride continued in silence, and it was a surprisingly slightly longer time than Percy had thought it would take. He hadn't really accounted for British traffic.

Checking into the motel was easy enough done, and Percy wasn't surprised when he was told they were in a family room. Come on, he could barely be trusted not to shove a javelin through the television – by accident! There was no way his Mom was going to trust him in his own room in a different country. Questing was one thing, and yes she knew he could take care of himself, but she was not going to leave him alone when they were somewhere brand new. He flopped on the sofa bed that was to be his place of rest while they were here, and yawned. “So, when are we going to see them?” He got out through the yawn. “Your cousins?”

Sally smiled. “Not till tomorrow. You have a rest, sweetheart, I'll wake you when it's time to get something to eat.” Percy didn't need to be told twice. He gave a tired nod, and turned over. Within a few minutes, he was fast asleep.

* * *

Apparently 'tomorrow' really meant later on the next day, more towards the evening. They had been invited round for dinner, and to stay the night so they wouldn't need to get a cab back to the motel, and could have a nice drink with their meal, Percy could hear Petunia say to Sally over the phone that morning. They hadn't spent all that long on the phone, really, but Percy could see his Mom wincing slightly from Petunia's slightly high-pitched tone coming from the speaker of the phone. He would have hung up by now, but there was a reason that Sally had all the manners in the family. He was sitting in the comfy chairs across the hall, and he could hear Petunia saw how much she was looking forward to meeting 'dear little Percy', and was sure she would be 'delighted' to meet Paul. He shared a look with his Step-Dad that said it all, really. If she was always this … insistent, they weren't much going to like her.

Still. At least it gave them most of the day to do what they wanted. Which, for Percy, meant sleeping some more. It was either jet-lag, or the Burden, probably a mix of both, but he was feeling very tried from the travels, and the sofa bed had actually been pretty comfy. Sally had been a little apprehensive about leaving him to his own devices for a few hours, but considering how quickly he fell asleep again, she felt that he would be reasonably alright left alone in a locked room for a few hours. Paul had pointed out that Percy was probably just going to sleep the whole time they were gone, which meant it was likely he wouldn't fall asleep during dinner that night. He was adapting well to his step-son being a demigod, Sally noted. He was a good man, and she was glad he was in their lives.

Their time out – which was mostly spent trying to find something to take to Petunia as a thank you for inviting them for dinner and letting them stay the night, but did also manage to include some time for lunch – took a little longer than Sally had initially wanted to leave Percy on his own for. She wasn't really sure what the monster state was like over here in the U.K., and she didn't want to return to the motel to find it destroyed, and then being presented with a bill for the repairs. She loved Percy dearly, and she could never hate Poseidon, but there were times that were more frequent than she'd like to admit that she found herself wishing that this wasn't the life her son was destined for.

And then there was also the worry about what to do if anything approaching the topic came up at dinner that night. Could she lie to the few living family members she had left? She supposed she would have to, even if the thought left a sour taste at the back of her throat. But she couldn't, no, she _wouldn't_ risk anything that could lead to harm for Percy. His life was already filled with dangers, she wouldn't add to that. No, they would have a nice, quiet, family dinner. Percy would get to meet his two cousins who were ages with him – Sally wasn't entirely sure, but she thought Percy was about a year older at most – and she could reconnect properly with a family connection she thought she had lost years ago. Yes, it would be a lovely evening.

What was that saying again? The best laid plans o' mice and men...

* * *

Number 4, Privet Drive was actually pretty much all that Percy had thought a British house would be. The lawn was immaculate, if slightly less green than he thought, and there was a driveway and it looks a bit like something you'd see in a movie. “It's kinda … quaint,” he commented to Sally and Paul when they got out of the cab. No wait, it was taxi over here, right? Sally took a brief moment to turn him to face her, worrying at his jacket.

“I wish you would have worn a shirt, Percy,” she muttered, trying to get his shoulder seams to sit correctly. Percy looked, just silently, and Sally stopped. “I haven't seen Petunia since I was just entering high school,” she said, pulling the strap of her bag up her should a little, fingers curling around it for comfort. “I can't help feeling anxious about meeting her again. It's been years and from her letters, well,” she paused, and her free hand cupped Percy's cheek. “You're a good boy, and I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom,” Percy didn't even have to think on the reply. He gave a smile. “And I can... say I'll try not to cause some kind of incident.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Can't make promises I can't be sure of keeping, but I can try.” Sally smiled wide, turning towards the house. Her smile tightened a little, and Paul took her hand.

“I'm being silly,” she said, looking between her husband and her son, “it's just...” she shrugged, not really knowing the words she wanted. “It's been a long time,” she settled on. The front door opened.

“Sally!” Petunia was a horsey looking woman, Percy thought, then cringed inwardly as he could hear Blackjack saying he looked nothing like that matchstick thank you very much. There was something pulled around her face, like she was always annoyed with something, even with the big smile she was greeting his Mom with. “It's lovely to see you,” Petunia was full of polite enthusiasm, Percy and Paul exchanging glances between Sally's head that went unnoticed by the two cousins. Okay, maybe they were just being cynical New Yorkers, but no one was that polite without reason. “This must be your husband,” Petunia said.

“Oh, erm, yes, this is...” Sally started, turning.

“Paul,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand, which Petunia took in greeting. She glanced once at Percy, and there was a brief flicker, the smile dropping for just a moment. Percy figured he must have imagined it. “And this is Sally's son, my step-son, Percy,” Paul pushed Percy forward, not wanting him to be left out of the introductions that were taking place. Percy gave a smile, and held out his hand. The flicker returned, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

“Lovely to meet you,” Petunia said. “Now, all of you, come inside. Dinner will be ready shortly.” She moved to the side, hurrying them all inside. Out of their notice, she took a brief glance around the street. Petunia had spotted nosy Mrs Wilkins across the street peeking out from behind her net curtains – which sorely needed a good wash, but far be it from her to judge – and then there was Mrs Elliot, who ran the ladies guild, trying to act as though she was just trimming her brushes but kept glancing over. Petunia gave a sniff. Spying on neighbours was so gauche, in Petunia's opinion, and she shut the door firmly behind her.

Sally, Paul, and Percy had been taken into the living room, where they were being introduced to an overgrown walrus of a man who was apparently Vernon Dursley, Petunia's husband of nearly 20 years. Vernon spoke in a way that reminded Percy of this annoying teacher from when he was a kid. The guy always had the belief that his opinions were the best that could be found, and anyone who didn't agree was not all that smart. Percy was pretty much always in trouble with that teacher, and he never seemed to do well in his classes. “Pleasure to meet you, Paul,” Vernon was saying, “Heard a bit about you from Sally's letters. I hear you're a teacher? Fine job, fine job. Must be hard to deal with the troublemakers, but inspiring young minds...” he trailed off, spotting Percy. “Oh, you'd be... Peter?”

“Percy,” he tried not to roll his eyes. “It's Percy,” he shook the man's hand. “Nice to meet you an' all that,” he added with a grin. He did said he'd try to behave himself. Besides, the getting the name wrong thing, well, he was used to it. Every camper was. Mr. D really needed a new hobby.

“Ah, yes, Percy,” Vernon gave a tight smile. “Well, the boys,” there was that flicker again, “are upstairs, probably playing some video game; you're free to join them. Leave us adults to talk about the past,” he gestured towards the stairs. Percy glanced over at Sally, who gave a nod. He shrugged, and turned, going out into the hallway and making his way up the stairs. He wasn't sure which room he was to go to at first, but the closer he got to them, the more he could hear the voices coming from within. He knocked on the door, and opened it.

“Uh... hey,” he said, standing in the doorway. There were two boys in the room. One was tall and widely built, and kind of reminded him of some of the guys from the Ares cabin in the way he seemed to take up all the space at the end of the bed. The other was... pretty much a double for Percy himself. Apart from the glasses. And the scar. And, okay, so they didn't look exactly alike, but there was enough in the other boy that Percy was pretty sure he could see the family connection. “I'm Percy,” he gestured at himself in introduction. “Vernon said I should come up,” he explained. The widely built boy got up from the bed.

“Alright, Percy,” he said, taking his hand in what Percy thought was meant to be a firm grasp and shook it. “Dudley. Been hearing a lot about you from Mum,” Dudley glanced Percy up and down. “Thought you'd be a bit more... New Yorker,” he said, waving his hand vaguely. Percy frowned. A bit more New Yorker? He glanced down at himself, then back up. Was Dudley expecting him to be dressed in Yankees merchandise or some kind of I (heart) NY t-shirt? Kind of a bit too tourist for his liking. Dudley jerked his thumb in the other boy's direction. “That git is Harry, I wouldn't bother with him, he's a bit of a freak.” Harry, oddly, did not make any comment, but rolled his eyes, bringing his knees up to his chest as he leant back against the wardrobe.

“Hey, man,” Percy nodded in his direction. “Not sure I know what a git is, but we're all a bit freakish, right?” He held his hand out, and Harry just stared at it. Percy frowned a little. There was something familiar about the expression Harry was wearing. Actually, it was extremely familiar and... oh gods, who had this kid seen die? He lowered his hand, and just looked, Harry meeting his own gaze. He couldn't say, not in front of them, but he did want to tell his cousin he wasn't alone. That... What could he even say? Dudley broke the silence.

“So, what's it like in New York? Never been. Keep saying to Dad we should go, but it's always a not this year. 'Spect I'll be able to wangle a trip out of him before I go to uni.”

Percy, feeling some dislike for his blond cousin, began to explain what it was like to live in New York. He didn't mention about the monster attacks. There was no need to scare them

* * *

Dinner was really kind of heavy and not exactly what Percy would have expected. Maybe he was just too used to the relatively lighter meals he had been eating pretty much all summer because of the war and just general camp related stuff. Well, apart from a weekend previous to the trip, where he and Annabeth went into the city with Rachel, taking Nico with them, and had a pig-out day. That was a fun day, and he was still surprised Nico had never been to the Central Park zoo. Anyway, not the point. The food was alright, but not really what he was used to.

“So, Percy,” Petunia neatly arranged her cutlery on her plate, “you haven't told us, how are you doing in school? Our Dudley here is top of the boxing team, he's won a regional medal,” the pride was very clear in her voice. Percy used his fork to poke at some of the remains of his food, giving a shrug.

“Uh, alright, I guess,” he said. “I'm not so good at the whole reading thing, so it can take a bit, but I'm getting there. Dyslexia, y'know,” he added in an off-hand manner. Petunia and Vernon exchanged a glance that Percy knew fairly well. Oh look, that glance said, they're just making excuses for their own lazy behaviour and inattention to studying. He looked down at his plate trying to count backwards from 10 in his head to keep himself from yelling at the relatives that his Mom wanted to make a good impression with. Speaking of Sally, she squeezed his hand reassuringly. Percy found his voice again, something coming to mind that would work for impressing these people. “Though my Dad arranges for me to go to this, erm, exclusive camp, and I'm doing pretty well in the stuff we study there. I mean, my Greek could use some fine tuning, but I can get by.”

“You can speak Greek, can you boy?” Vernon grunted. “Preferred Latin myself. Dudley learns the same, at Smeltings.” He huffed a little, smiling. “Fine school, that. Went there myself, you know. Only the best for my boy.” He threw a proud look at his son, who gave a smirk in return. Harry, being at the furthest end of the table and thus not as closely under the scrutiny of his Aunt and Uncle, rolled his eyes. Yeah, wasn't Dudley failing Latin according to his last report card? Something about his teacher strongly recommending they get a tutor in over the holidays if they were going to insist in Dudley keeping on with the class?

“And, what school do you go to, Harry?” Sally turned, smiling sweetly at Harry. There was something about Aunt Petunia's cousin – his too, he supposed – that reminded him a bit of Mrs. Weasley. He opened his mouth to answer, but Petunia got in there first.

“He goes to St. Brutus' Secure Centre for the Incurably Criminal,” she told Sally, quickly pouring her some more wine from the bottle that was being shared among the adults – Percy and Harry hadn't been offered any, and it was proudly announced that Dudley was avoiding alcohol while under training. “His grades were never good enough for Smeltings, sadly, and with his behaviour,” she gave a look that clearly asked what else they could they have done? Sally gave Harry a sad smile, one that was – as far as Harry could tell – actually genuine.

“I'm sure you're improving,” she said. “This one,” she gave Percy a playful poke in his arm, to which he comically rubbed as if it was in a great deal of pain, “is forever having me being called into the principal's office. We manage though,” Sally added. “The camp has helped with the dyslexia a bit, actually, and he's learnt some good study habits off of one of his friends there – Annabeth. Oh, you'd love her, Petunia, such a smart girl,” Sally beamed. Percy grinned down at his plate. Yes, Sally knew he and Annabeth were dating, but it was good to hear his Mom bring his girlfriend up on her own, and just to praise her. Wise Girl would blush if she could hear it. “They make such a _cute_ couple,” Sally added, a mischievous smile on her face.

“Mom,” Percy only half-groaned. There was polite laughter from the table, though it did sound a little irritated from Dudley. Maybe Percy was just imagining it. “It's no... we only started dating a couple of weeks ago,” he added as an explanation. “We've known each other since we were 12, and... yeah,” he glanced back down at his plate, feeling a little awkward at having to explain the nature of his relationship to these people. Yeah, they might be related, but that didn't mean they were family – that connection hadn't been formed yet. Actually, that reminded him, when he got back to the States, he'd need to see about dragging Nico out into the world a bit. Kid spent too much time down in the Underworld for someone who was still living.

“Yeah, well, I've got tons of girls after me,” Dudley declared loudly to the table at large, a smug look on his face. “They all want to spend time with a regional champion.” He puffed his chest out proudly – and it was a pity that Percy and Harry didn't realise they both had the same image of popping him like a balloon. There was a proud look from Vernon as well, who gave a hearty laugh at his son's words, clapping him on the shoulder as if to reward him. Petunia smiled, but it was a little more tight.

“But, of course, you're far too busy with your studies, aren't you Dudders?” she asked. It was clear to all the teens at the table that it wasn't a question though.

“Oh, uh, yeah, 'course, Mum,” Dudley agreed in a rather hurried manner. “Got to keep up my marks to stay in the boxing club... stupid school rules.” Harry allowed himself a small, private smirk at this. He may have caught more than a glimpse at 'Dudders' latest school report. Seems like Latin wasn't the only class he was having problems in. Not that the Dursleys would have cared, but Harry wasn't doing too badly overall himself. Well, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't care, but Mrs Weasley did, and Harry was pretty sure that she had managed to convince McGonagall to send Harry's report card along to her. Ron wasn't the only one who got the occasional letter to keep his eye on his studies when it looked like he wasn't doing too well come the mock exams. Not to mention Hermione would have probably taken his broomstick off him long ago if she felt his grades weren't a good match to his capabilities. There was that time halfway through second year she'd taken away Ron's chess set until he actually wrote his essays to a better standard. Ron had hated it, but did admit in a grudging tone that he had gotten better comments on those essays, than any of the previous ones.

“What about you, Harry?” Paul asked. “How's school for you?” He was a teacher, Harry remembered from Aunt Petunia's coaching from the previous few weeks. She was so determined to make a good impression on the cousin she hadn't seen since before any of the teens were born; that was the only reason she and Uncle Vernon were treating Harry like family, even if it was clearly strained and distant. All things considered, Harry would have preferred to going back to being ignored. Having to make like he was friends with _Dudders_ early that evening had been stomach churning. Petunia gave him a warning glance before he answered the question. Harry mentally rolled his eyes.

“It's okay,” was his blithe response. “I'm on my … year's school team,” he caught himself before saying House, a truly unintentional slip that had just wanted to come out of his mouth. Paul smiled gently, encouragingly, and Harry felt compelled to say a little more. “My marks aren't too bad,” he said, “though I could do better in Chemistry.” Referring to Potions as Chemistry always made Harry wonder if having the more up to date facilities that Muggle schools had for their Science classes would have made Potions any more bearable. It would, he decided, probably be more pleasant than being in a dark, dank dungeon. At least there would be more light, so less chance of exploding cauldrons. “The classroom is kind of outdated, so that doesn't help much,” he added conversationally. Surprisingly, Paul nodded an agreement.

“Yeah, we noticed something similar when the Science classrooms had a refit at Goode – the school I teach in,” Paul added as an explanation to the rest of the table. “A better working environment does have a slight tendency to get students a little attentive. I'm not really sure of the why, though. I expect some of the Psychology department could explain it.” Psychology was an elective at Goode, and one Percy was steering far away from. He had enough counselling at Camp; Mr. D's being the God of Madness meant that even though he didn't like the majority of the campers, he wouldn't allow anything to fester in their minds. And yet, somehow, Luke... Percy moved that thought from his head. He couldn't deal with it, not here. “Some Alumni donations have really helped to bring all the needed classrooms up to beyond the expected standard. This was a few years back though,” Paul added. “We're a good school – if you'll pardon the word play,” he laughed gently, a laugh that was followed by everyone. Paul had that knack, Percy had realised, and Harry was starting to, of just being reachable.

“Couldn't teach myself,” Vernon said, self-importantly, “never had the right temperament. Wonderful profession though, greatest of respect for teachers.” This was added so quickly that anyone could be forgiven for thinking that maybe Vernon didn't have the respect he claimed. “I'm a manager, myself, at Grunnings. We deal in industrial tools, drills mostly. Landed a big contract just recently, managed to pay of the new car with it – did you see it on the way in, Paul? Rather proud of it.” And yeah, there it was. Harry chanced a look at the clock on the wall. Huh. About an hour and a half after the guests had arrived. Uncle Vernon really had managed to keep his mouth shut for a change.

Talk continued pleasantly, and no one made anything that could be considered to be some sort of gaffe, or rudeness to either party at the table. Dessert was a simple ice-cream, and a cake which Petunia had claimed to have baked herself. Whether she had or not was not Percy's business, but it was a decent cake. Then a bit more alcohol for the adults, and more juice for the teens, and they were all allowed to go their separate ways. Dudley looked up at the clock, and turned to his mum.

“Mum, since it's not too late, is it alright if I go meet up with Piers and the guys? I was supposed to be going for dinner at his tonight, after all.” Then, he nodded in Percy's direction. “Percy can come along with, I'll show him around a bit.”

“What a kind gesture, Dudders, of course you can go out,” Petunia said. “I'm sure Percy will enjoy meeting your friends.” At this, she glanced over at Sally, a smile on her face that was filled with pride at the kindness of her son. “They're such good boys, Sally, always helping out in the community. They even participate in the neighbourhood watch scheme we have, and make sure the younger children are inside before it gets too late.” Harry did not snort in amusement, but it was a close call. Yeah, that was certainly one way of phrasing what Dudley and the others did at night. He wondered, just briefly, if his Aunt Petunia's vision of Dudley would fail even if he was escorted home one night by the police – not like it hadn't nearly already happened. Sally glanced over at Percy, who shrugged. A quick looked at Paul seemed to contain an entire conversation, before she turned back to the group.

“Well, then if it's fine by you and Vernon, Petunia, it's fine with me and Paul.” Sally smiled. “You three boys behave yourselves, now,” she said. And there it was again, that tiny flicker from Petunia and Vernon. It only seemed to come out around Harry, who either didn't notice it, or knew about it all too well, Percy thought.

“Yes,” Petunia said, recovering quickly. “You keep an eye on them, Dudley,” she added, “being so responsible. Did I tell you about the commendation he got at school for his work on the local volunteer scheme, Sally?” The adults' conversation faded into the background as the boys got ready to go out. There seemed to be some sort of silent conversation going on between Dudley and Harry, and once Percy said goodbye to his Mom and Paul, and walked to the end of the street with them, it wasn't long until the conversation became verbal again.

“Alright, Freak, this is where we part ways. You'd better not be home before me,” Dudley said, in a bit of a snarl. Percy's eyebrows rose a little.

“Hey, man -” he started, but Harry interrupted with a simple shrug of his shoulders.

“Suits me,” the other boy commented, and wandered off on his own. Percy watched for a few minutes, looking a little concerned.

“Shouldn't we like, go after him?” he asked Dudley, making sure to keep an eye on Harry's ever distant growing figure. “I know this is a quiet neighbourhood an' all, but you hear all sorts of crazy things happening.” Okay, maybe that was a bit more of his own experience coming out there, but still. His Mom had expected them to be sticking together, and he didn't want it getting back to her that he just let one of his cousins walk off on their own; she would be pretty disappointed in him. “Nah, the Freak'll be fine.” That was a nickname Percy was going to have to get the story behind.

“He's not really one for company anyway,” Dudley shrugged off Percy's worries with too much ease for Percy's own liking. If the kid who went on life threatening quests and frequently made jokes about his own life span found the way you shrugged off worries too easy, Percy thought, then there's probably something wrong with that picture. Maybe he was reading too much into it, but at the same time, Harry had the look. “Anyway, Yank, want to see what real men do for fun in the evening? Or you want to run back to your Mummy?”

Percy just looked. “I'm game.”


	2. Chapter 2

So, Little Whinging was pretty much as little as the name suggested. It was a bit too... quiet for Percy, who was used to the never sleeping streets of New York or the constant noise of Camp. Walking through the streets with Dudley was an exercise in boredom, especially since all Dudley was interested in was, apparently, himself. Since Harry had wandered off on their own, and Dudley had promised to show him what 'real men' did for fun around these parts, Percy would be excused for thinking that all 'real men' did was brag about the supposed conquests they made while off at boarding school. While Smeltings was an all-male school, Dudley assured him it was a 'piece of piss' – whatever that meant - to sneak out to the local village to meet up with girls, all of whom seemed to be incredibly impressed with Dudley's boxing prowess. Percy entertained himself with the thought of Dudley meeting Annabeth or Clarisse. Annabeth would be amusing for the sheer shock value Dudley would get with such a beautiful girl being able to knock him flat, while the idea of Clarisse... well, that was just going to be an all out brawl. Either way, for that one, Percy would find the popcorn and keep himself busy. Maybe he'd start up bets. His money would be on Clarisse. Actually, thinking on it, smart money would be on Clarisse, he wouldn't make any profit. Well, he glanced at Dudley, if his cousin had friends just as convinced of his skills, then he might make a bit.

"Couple of rules about tonight, Yank," Dudley addressing Percy so directly – and why didn't the kid just use his name, it was there for a reason, wasn't like his Mom had forgotten to give him one. Wouldn't have made their life any easier while he was growing up if she did, would have just got the social services on to them. There was this case when he was about 5 or 6, he could vaguely remember, that his teacher called the social. He never really knew what happened after the call was made. No one came to the house or anything. Like it mattered now, anyway. Dudley stood in front of Percy, trying to make himself seem taller. "First, none of this gets back to the grown ups." Percy gave a nod; yeah, that was reasonable enough. He pulled some crap that he wouldn't want his Mom finding out about, he kept as many of the more death defying stunts he pulled on quests as quiet as possible for a damn reason, after all. Dudley looked at him for a minute, before continuing on. "Okay, second, I'm Big D, none of those stupid pet names Mum comes out with."

"Aw, does that mean I can't call you Dudders?" Percy smirked, and quickly dodged a punch from Dudley. "Okay, wow, temper," he mocked, ignoring the glare that was shot at him. Seriously, nothing this kid threw at him was really going to faze him. "Right, fine, I got it. You don't want your guys knowing that Big D's Mom still sees him as her little baby." Another glare from Dudley that was ignored. "Fine, I'll keep the mouth shut," he held out his hand for Dudley to shake. The blond did it after a moment of trying to work out whether or not Percy was insulting him. This was added on to wondering how Percy had such quick reflexes, especially since he didn't really look like much. Between the two of them, Dudley definitely had more muscle mass. "Any more rules or we done here? 'Cause I'd like to get with the moving..."

"We're done," Dudley nodded. "We'll meet up with the guys now, just wanted to make sure you knew the score," he said, before turning and leading Percy off to meet up with his friends. Percy still found the streets too quiet for his liking, so he was more comfortable when they met up with the other boys, feeling more relaxed in the familiar noise of teenagers being teenagers. Dudley introduced them all in quick succession, and Percy found his head spinning a little from all the names that were trying to make sure they got the most attention first. One of the boys – a rat face kid who Percy was pretty sure was called Piers – stepped forward.

"So you're one of the cousins that Mrs D has had her knickers twisted about visiting," he sniggered. He then gave Percy a very deliberate look up and down, as if trying to measure him up for something. "Well, he don't look like much, Big D," Piers said to Dudley. "I mean, he's got the Freak's looks, the poor sod."

"Yeah, standing right here, dude," Percy interjected, a bit of anger in his tone. "Also, not deaf. And even if I was? Bitching about my newly found cousin in front of me? Not a cool move," he said, slipping a hand into the pocket of his jeans, fingers wrapping reassuringly around Riptide. No, he wasn't planning on uncapping the pen to use the sword on these guys – they may have been rude, but that was pretty much just high school evil. It had somehow become a _thing_ when he found himself getting angry. Well, there was that and the back of his neck was tingling in a way he didn't like. That tingling was never a good sign. Maybe he just needed some sort of anger management or maybe he was just on edge 'cause part of him still expected Zeus to strike him down for daring to be in his domain when he'd been on the plane.

"Oh come on, mate, can't you take a bit of teasing?" Piers laughed, smacking him on the arm. "Big D, we'll need to teach your Yank here not to be so bloody sensitive." Dudley laughed and Percy forced a laugh of his own. Seriously, there was a tingling in the back of his neck, and it was putting him on edge, and it made no sense. Come on, the war had finished! Surely they'd managed to buy themselves a little bit of peace and quiet?

"So, what's the plan for tonight then?" Dudley asked the group, as they continued to just loiter around the area they had all met up in. Percy had been cautioned for loitering once. Well, almost cautioned. He was waiting outside of one of Mr. Dare's buildings for Rachel, and the security had called the police who just turned up to 'speak' with him only a few minutes before Rachel and her father came outside. Turns out Mr. Dare didn't like the police questioning one of his daughter's friends – especially not one who had proven to be a decent sort of person. They said that money talked, but Percy figured just the hint of someone with connections being annoyed at you talked louder.

One of the others boys spoke up. "Someone's been talking wrong about you, Big D," they said, a hint of a malicious smile on their face. Percy had a small moment of wondering where he'd learned a word like malicious, then just summed it up to Annabeth. He wasn't dumb, but his vocabulary was probably not as extensive as it ought to have been. "Think you ought to go and put them in their place." Wait. What was that? Put them in thei... _Oh_. So that was the stuff 'real men' did? Yeah, Percy wasn't game for that. The others didn't see a problem with this, instead clapping the boy on the back.

"That's an idea alright, Malcolm," Dudley said, his face twisted with a horrible sneer that Percy guessed was meant to be some sort of smile. "Can't have people messing with the Junior Heavyweight Inter-School Boxing Champion of the Southeast," he said, in a way that made him puff his chest again with pride. Percy really wished he didn't do that, he couldn't help but get the mental image of popping the guy, and seeing him fly away like a deflating balloon. "We sorted Evans, and we'll sort whoever this brat is an' all."

"And by sort you mean...?" Percy put in, just reminding the group that he was there, and unlike them, he had no personal gain in keeping quiet about the evening's events. Or, well, he hoped that little reminder struck their minds. Not that they seemed to have much of a mind between them. They turned to look at him, expressions clearly suggesting they thought he was an idiot. Good. "Ah, right, the whole punching, kicking, brawling thing. Not really my scene. I'll take a pass," he gave them a nod, and turned to leave. Maybe he could find Harry and talk with him. He found his way blocked by a couple of Dudley's friends – Gordon and Dennis, his mind provided, which he hoped was right. Well, vaguely hoped. He couldn't much be bothered with any of them.

"Can't do that, Yank," Dudley's voice was menacing, or meant to sound it at least. Percy didn't roll his eyes, but it was a close call thing. He'd been working on that. "Meant to be watching out for you, promised your Mum." Percy turned round, and just gave him a look.

"Yeah, because Little Whinging is _so_ dangerous compared to New York," he drawled. Dudley stepped forward threatening, to which Percy visibly did not react. His hands remained in his pockets, a very calm expression on his face. Dudley may have been big – the word 'vast' kept throwing itself around Percy's mind – but he had seen off bigger. Even if the guy wanted to punch him, well, that kept him from hitting someone else, right? It wasn't as if Percy couldn't take it. "You gonna hit me then, Big D?"

"Don't want your Mummy crying over you; sounds like she does it enough," Dudley sneered. That made Percy clench his fist, but he did his best not to show a visible reaction. "Run off then, Yank. If you can't handle playing with the big boys, you should go find the Freak. Maybe you and him can have a good cry or something." There was more sniggering from the group, and yeah, Percy was done with this lot. He let his annoyance with them be shown, rolling his eyes and turning away.

"Whatever, Big D," he called over his shoulder, marching off in a random direction and hoping for the best. Worst came to worst, he'd find a pay phone or something and call his Mom's mobile. If she asked why he wasn't with his cousins... he'd come up with something. He didn't much think his Mom would want to hear that her cousin's son came across as a bullying ass. She wouldn't have liked to hear that he'd kicked the crap out of the guy either, so that was why he hadn't thrown a punch even though he really wanted to. It was kind of funny how kids changed when their parents or teachers were out of the way, and Percy wondered how much Dudley had been bribed to keep up a pleasant face for the evening. He wondered idly if Harry was given the same treatment, but those thoughts were dismissed as quickly as they came. It didn't seem to fit the picture he was getting, not yet anyway, and this was coming from someone who had no real head for tactics beyond 'run at that thing and hope to cut it into pieces... or maybe drown it.'

It wasn't long into his walk that he came across Harry, who was just slouching against a street sign. Percy took a moment to actually look at him. Harry wasn't really short, but Percy got the impression it hadn't been that long since he'd taken a stretch; there was that kind of thinness in his face. There'd been a couple of kids like that at Camp, usually the thinness was gone after a bit, thanks to food and exercise. That wasn't really the point here. Point was Harry. Somehow, despite being kind of average height, maybe a bit taller, Harry seemed _small_ to him. The only likeness Percy could make was... Wart, from _The Sword in the Stone_. He had loved that movie when he was a kid, and something about Harry reminded Percy of Wart. Looking around, Percy approached his cousin. "Hey, man, mind if I join you?"

Harry looked a little startled, but masked it well. Kind of. It was like when you didn't want your friends to see you were freaked out at some horror movie. "Free world, apparently," he responded. Percy laughed, and leant at the other side of the side. Harry glanced at him. "Let me guess, Dudder's company wasn't exactly to your tastes?" Percy gave a look

"So you know what he actually gets up to, then?" Harry nodded. "Yeah, well," Percy rolled his shoulders slightly, trying to find a vaguely comfortable position for leaning against the sign. "I'm not so much into the whole wailing on people 'cause they don't sing my praises all the time thing. He always been like that?" Again Harry nodded, this time his shoulders dropping a little. Oh, so Harry was the former punch-bag then. "Dude, you have my respect, I would have ditched _long_ ago." He had, actually, a couple of times, back when Gabe was still with them. He never really got far before guilt would make him turn back. If he left, then his Mom would be stuck with Gabe, that's how his younger self had worked it out. Gabe had never even noticed he'd left. A+ parenting there. Ass.

"Yeah, guess I've just got... amazing tolerance," Harry muttered, side-eyeing Percy with probable confusion mixed in with that distrust. He looked away, and Percy was okay with just standing in silence beside the other boy. He had no idea how to broach the subject that he wanted to, anyway. How did you start that kind of conversation? 'Hey, you've got that look in your eye that says you've seen someone die, well me too!' Yeah, most likely the other boy would just curse him out. Percy would do the same in his shoes. He wasn't entirely sure if English people did the whole cursing out thing, but he figured that considered Dudley's bullying true self, it was more than likely. "That's Big D heading for home," Harry said, after... Percy wasn't sure how long they had just stood in silence. He spent most of his time noticing how if anyone approached them nearby, they would cross the street to get away from Harry. St. Brutus' must have some reputation. "We should probably go. Vernon gets... they don't like me coming home later than Dud," Harry said.

"Lead the way," Percy said, before falling into step just behind Harry. He was taller than his cousin, he noticed. Actually, he was a bit taller than Dudley as well. Must be something to do with being a demi-god. Even if that did sound like a cop-out of an answer. Percy could vaguely recall some tale about the offspring of Gods and humans being able to warp perceptions, and he was pretty sure it wasn't just referring to the Mist. He wished Wise Girl was with him, she'd know the answer. It was still pretty warm, apparently they were having a heat-wave or something. Whatever, felt alright to Percy and Harry wasn't complaining so he figured it couldn't be all that bad. They didn't talk as they walked, but as they neared Dudley, and could hear the goodbyes and comments made by Dudley's friends, Percy figured the whole keeping quiet thing wasn't really going to be on the agenda for much longer.

"Hey, Big D!"

Dudley turned round. "Oh. Potter. See the Yank found you then," Percy gave a sarcastic wave. He was not cool with the constantly being called a Yank thing. He had a name! A really good name. A name that didn't sound as stupid as Dudley – no, seriously, who the actual Hades names their kid Dudley and not expect a bit of a psycho when they grow up? Harry smirked over at their cousin.

"How long have you been 'Big D' then?" Dudley didn't openly answer Harry, instead muttering something under his breath that neither Percy or Harry were able to pick up on. He deliberately turned his back on them, shooting them an expression that made it clear he wasn't going to lower himself to talk to the 'peasants'. Percy could actually see Dudley calling him a peasant, now that he thought on it. The whole private boarding school and affected accent in front of his parents made it really possible. "It's a cool name, but you'll always be 'Ickle Diddykins' to me," Harry had by this time, fallen into step beside Dudley, Percy just tagging behind them.

"I told you to shut it, Potter," Dudley growled at him. His hands had curled into fists, and Percy caught himself just looking between the two, wondering if he should step in if it came to a fight. The obvious answer was yes, but it might have been kind of amusing to see Dudders get his ass handed to him. He wasn't sure why he thought Harry could beat the blond in a fight, it was just a gut instinct. They tended to work for him. Except those time they went horribly wrong, but he tried not to think about those ones, thanks.

"Who've you been beating up tonight? Another ten year old? I know you were getting Mark Evans a couple of nights ago..." Harry's voice broke through Percy's train of thought, and made him stop for a second in the street.

"Woah, wait, back up and reverse." Harry and Dudley both turned to look at Percy due to this outburst, questioning looks on their face. "You beat up _little kids_ , man?" Percy sounded shocked, appalled, and a bit disgusted. Harry thought they were very good things to sound considering the matter at hand, and mentally noted that down in the positives column he'd been keeping since the end of the last school term. It was probably a stupid idea, and Harry knew if he told anyone about it they'd probably laugh, but he felt he needed to make the list in his head. Just to remind him that there were some positives around now that Voldemort was back. The saying no news is good news does not apply when a megalomaniac who wanted to kill people for not fitting his ideals had returned. If Hermione had been there, she'd probably would have brought up comparisons to beginnings of the Second World War, and compared the policy of appeasement that was taken with Hitler to the extreme denial stance that the Ministry was taking. Not that Harry would have paid much attention, but she would have tried.

"He was asking for it!" Dudley spat at them, clearly not happy with his new cousin questioning him. He drew himself to his full height, an attempt to seem all important – which was needed now that his friends weren't around to back him up and instead he was dealing with two similar looking boys, both of whom were not impressed with anything he had to say. "He _cheeked_ me." This was said in such a way that Percy could be forgiven for thinking that Mark Evans had tried to torch the house or something. He, personally, thought the kid would be doing Dudders a favour – everything here was way too similar. It was all too Stepford for his liking.

"Did he say you look like a pig that's been taught to talk on its hind legs?" Harry asked. "'Cause that's not cheek, Dud, that's true." Percy snorted. That was what Dudley reminded him of: a pig. Well, that and a shaved gorilla but that was kind of cruel to both of those animals now he was thinking on it. Promising his Mom that he'd try not to cause trouble meant he couldn't say it, but he could think it as much as he liked. Not like anyone here could read minds. Trust his luck, related to the walking pig.

"You haven't got the guts to take me on," Dudley said to Harry. There was a glance around and his voice dropped, and Percy had to strain a little to listen in. "Not without that thing." Percy frowned, what thing was Dudley on about? Harry had a thing? Was... was his thing like Percy's thing? Also constant thinking of something as a 'thing' made everything sound way dirtier than it had any right too. He needed to stop hanging around with the Stoll brothers. He opened his mouth.

"'Cause taking on a little kid is a _great_ way of proving who's the toughest around." That did the trick, Harry and Dudley spun round to face him. Harry was carrying a wooden stick and Percy really couldn't think if he'd been holding that earlier on when it had just been them. Why would Harry need a pointy wooden stick for anyway? Was he planning on slaying some vampires this evening? Percy wasn't really sure that vampires were much in favour of heat-waves, they probably preferred the cold. Made it easier to mask the whole un-dead bloodsucking creature of the night thing. Man, he hadn't watch a Dracula movie in ages. He'd need to see about fixing that.

"Yeah, about that," Harry continued on Percy's thought, still side glancing at the older boy with an air of confusion. "This boxing title you keep banging on about. How old was your opponent for that, then? Seven? Maybe eight?" There was a muscle constantly twitching in Dudley's jaw by now, and Percy figured it was only a matter of time till the guy snapped and tried to hit one of them. He could probably push Harry out of the way and take the hit in time; Harry was a little dude and though he'd place money on the kid in a fight, getting hit off guard could really put a guy off step.

"He was sixteen, for your information!" Oh, that was a snarl. Dudley was really not happy at this point, and that was putting the whole thing lightly. "He was out cold for twenty minutes after I'd finished with him, and he was twice as heavy as either of you. So you just wait till I tell Dad-"

"Running to Daddy? _Nice_ move," Percy commented. Harry looked over at him, and there was the vaguest hint of a smile about his features.

"I know," he said, turning back to Dudley. "Is his ickle boxing champ frightened of his cousin's-"

"Not usually this brave at night, are you?" Dudley sneered at Harry. Percy blinked, looking around them. Okay, so the sun was down, and the street lamps were coming on... Yeah, he wasn't sure, but this was pretty much what they called night over where he lived. Maybe things were different in England, how would he know? Maybe this was just like... mid-evening or whatever posh sounding term would work with one of those accents he always heard on the British shows they showed on television. RP, that's how Annabeth had described them. He… didn't know what RP stood for, but if that's what Annabeth called it then he'd go with that. She was usually right, after all. "When you're in bed."

And that went in a direction Percy didn't expect.

Harry and Dudley had both stopped walking, simply staring at each other as they stood in the middle of the street. "What d'you mean, when I'm in bed?" Harry asked, sounding calm. Sounding being the key word there. There was something about that smug look on Dudley's face that suggested that maybe his other little cousin wasn't as calm as he was making out to be. "What am I supposed to be frightened of, pillows or something?"

"Boogeyman," Percy pipped in helpfully, but they ignored him. He shrugged. Whatever.

"I heard you last night. Talking in your sleep. _Moaning_." Dudley was just taunting Harry now, Percy saw the smaller boy's shoulders go rigid. "'Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric!'" Cedric... whoever Cedric was, that was who Harry had seen die. Okay. Right. Now Percy had a name, at least he was kind of positive about it all. Now he just needed to know how to address the whole 'so I've seen someone die too and I know bottling it up is not good for you' thing. He'd figure out a way. Eventually. "Who's Cedric – your boyfriend?"

"You're lying." Harry's voice was quiet, and there was a tenseness in the air. Percy stepped a little closer, carefully placing a calming hand on Harry's shoulder. He looked up at Dudley and yeah, he was pretty much done with even pretending to try to be nice to this asshole. It was obvious even to him that something big had happened to Harry, and here was this idiot _taunting_ him about it?

"Hey, man, maybe wanna cut it out?" He shot at Dudley. "Seriously, the whole taunting thing is not cool."

"'Dad! Help me, Dad! He's going to kill me, Dad! Boo hoo!'" Percy wondered if he should use his powers of complete invisibility for good or evil. More importantly, what Dudley said raised a red alert in his mind. Someone wanted to kill Harry. Harry had seen death, and someone wanted to kill him and he had been calling – maybe praying – to his Dad to help him. Percy stared a little. Was... was his cousin a demigod too? Did the Gods still come to Europe and have kids? Yeah, he knew they were mostly based in America now, it being one of the great super powers of the world and all, but England had a history of that too, as Annabeth had lectured him on. Could they still be coming here? So... if Harry was a demigod, who was his Dad? Who wanted him dead? Percy could tell him he wasn't alone, that he could help.

"Big D, you wanna cool it already?" Percy shot, but looked at Harry. "Just ignore him, man, he's an ass. Big ball of gas, that's what he is..."

"'Come and help me, Dad! Mum, come and help me! He's killed Cedric! Dad, help me! He's going to-' _Don't you point that thing at me_!" Percy trying to keep Harry calm hadn't worked, and Harry – with surprising strength Percy thought – had pushed past him, and pushed Dudley back into the wall of the alley. The pointed wooden stick thing was directed right at the larger boy, and there was fear on Dudley's face. Harry looked like he was barely keeping a lid on his anger, and Percy began to try to pull him back.

"Come on, man, it's not worth it, just drop the stick."

"Don't ever talk about that again. D'you understand me?"

"Listen, you don't wanna do this, he's just an ass."

"Point that thing somewhere else!"

"You're really not helping by making all the demands here, Big D."

"I said, _do you understand me_?"

" _Point it somewhere else!_ "

"Is anyone even hearing my voice?!"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"GET THAT THING AWAY FROM-"

And that's when Percy had the feeling as though he'd just been dropped head first into the iciest water he'd ever encountered. It was a all over body shudder that happened at once, and left you chilled to your bones – a phrase he'd never really understood until getting that feeling – and that felt like no heat could ever make it better. There was no light. Not from the lights, the stars, or the moon. Percy thought nothing could block out the moon once the Goddess had put it there. She was not going to be happy about this. It had to be a monster. Only a monster could cause this sort of feeling. He glanced over at his cousins, but he couldn't see much. The darkness was too thick. Think, Jackson! What monster could do this?

"W-what are you d-doing?" Dudley was terrified. Percy couldn't blame him much. "St-stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything," Harry answered. He... didn't sound scared. He sounded kind of like he was getting ready for something, that he was prepared to be attacked. Right. Well, that was kind of fitting Percy's theory that he was a demigod. After your first few monster attacks, you kind of lost the scared from your voice and got more into be ready to attack or defend more. Oh, you were still scared, but you did your best not to let it control you. Well, Ares kids would probably deny ever being scared in the first place, but Percy figured that fear was a mortal thing so every demigod had it. Ares kids just had a reputation to keep, was all.

"I c-can't see! I've g-gone blind! I-"

"Dudders, none of us can see, so can you kindly do me a favour and keep the mouth shut!" Percy snapped, still staring into the darkness. He couldn't see what Harry was doing, but he had to figure it was along the same lines. There was just something about this cold. It reminded him of... What did it remind him of? He knew it reminded him of something, because he could sense his mind trying to scream the answer at him, but nothing was coming. That prickling feeling on the back of his neck was back in full force, and he turned in every direction he could, trying to be prepared for anything. His hand slipped into his pocket, and pulled out his pen.

"I'll t-tell Dad!" Oh great. Now Dudley was whimpering, and that just made Percy feel sorry for the guy. Ass he may had been, but he was a mortal. Mortals shouldn't have to deal with monster attacks. What monster could do something like this though? What monster could blot out the stars and moon as if they were just lights that had their own on and off switch. Maybe he should have actually done as Annabeth suggested and done the reading at Camp. That might have actually been helpful for this situation, but he had never figured he'd get into a situation like this. He thought that they had bought some free time with the end of the war. "W-where are you two? What are you d-do-?"

"Will you shut up?" Harry's voice came out in a hiss, but it was still recognisably Harry's voice. "I'm trying to lis-" There was another hiss now. No, not a hiss. It was more like... something rattling. Like a radiator when it needed the excess air bled out of it. It brought another feeling of the icey cold, and that sick feeling of every bad thing that had ever happened ever been brought to mind all at once. Percy's stomach felt like it was falling out of itself, but he stood his ground. Slowly, he started to un-cap his pen.

"YOU MORON, DUDLEY!" Harry yelled. Percy whipped his head around. While it was still dark, it was like it had lessened slightly, and he could make out the bulky outline of Dudley running down the alley, stumbling and hitting into the fence, charging down, right towards...

"DUDLEY, I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS, BUT YOU'RE HEADED RIGHT FOR IT!" Percy yelled, running forward, his sword now fully out.

"DUDLEY! KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! WHATEVER YOU DO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT!" Harry yelled. Okay, so he'd encountered this monster before. Handy to know. Still, kid was still recovering from whatever it was that had him yelling out in the middle of the night when he was sleeping. The least Percy could do was pitch a little relief while he was here. Then there was light, a small light, but light all the same, and Percy could see Harry's horrified looking face.

"Harry, grab Dudley and run," Percy instructed. "I'll hold them off." He ran at the huge, hooded creature – the Underworld! That was what the feeling of cold reminded him of – and lifted his sword, bringing it straight down through one of them as easily as slicing through soft butter. It dissolved in a pile of ashes that blew away. Okay, so that was one down. Then another came nearer him, the scabbed and slimy hand reaching for him. A rush of horrible memories came to the front of his mind and his grip on his sword hilt became loose, as the creature drew in a huge breath. Maybe resisting was just easier, he could relax for once, and just let it be. Sure, his friends would be upset and Annabeth – Annabeth!

As her face came flooding into his mind, seeing her drop off of the school they had found Nico at, Percy came back to his senses, yelling and raising his sword once more, cutting this one's head off. Again, it dissolved into ashes from the touch of the celestial bronze, and Percy dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. He hadn't even realised he'd been lifted up. He didn't give himself much recovery time though, there was still Harry and Dudley to worry about. He lifted his head, and saw that Harry had run down to get to the other monster, which was crouching over Dudley who'd fallen to the ground. Swearing. Percy pushed himself to his feet and ran after them.

Harry raised his wooden stick thing and yelled: " _EXPECTO PATRONUM_!" From the tip of the stick, came a huge silver stag, which charged at the monster, catching it with its antlers and throwing it far from Dudley, standing over the fallen boy with a protective air. The monster soared up into the sky and gave that rattling sound again, before disappearing into the darkness. The stag moved to the end of the alley before mixing into the mist that was beginning to settle in the night air. Then all the lights came back on.

Percy and Harry stood still, staring at each other for a moment. Harry's wide eyes took in Percy's sword, and Percy looked cautiously at the bit of wood Harry had made the stag appear from. Dudley still lay on the ground, whimpering and shaking from the experience. "So," Percy breathed, capping his sword once more and putting it back into his pocket. "You maybe wanna explain what that was all about?" he asked, gesturing at the stick. Harry looked at the stick, then looked back at Percy.

"I'll tell if you will." Percy gave a nod, that was fair enough. There were loud running footsteps behind them, and the sword and stick were out once more, ready for another attack. They got someone who reminded Percy strongly of an old librarian who was at one of his schools. She was stern, but fair, and always tried to get Percy reading. It never worked, but he did appreciate the fact that she tried. Harry seemed to recognise the woman. "...Mrs Figg?" He stammered, quickly rushing to hide the stick he was carrying. Percy just moved his sword behind his back, capping it and shoving it into his pocket once it was back in pen form.

"Don't put that away, idiot boy!" Mrs Figg screeched at Harry. She glanced momentarily at Percy, and there was a wary look on her face. He didn't think she'd seen the sword, but he had a tendency to make people wary on a good day, anyway. She turned her attention back to Harry, and kept it fixed there. "There might be more of them around! You need to get out of here now! All three of you. I'll write to Dumbledore,"

"Wait, you know Dumbledore?!" Harry interrupted but Mrs Figg was not for listening.

"Oh, why leave a Squib like me on guard duty," she muttered, worrying her hands together. She looked back at the boys, surprised to see that they hadn't moved at all. "Hurry now, Harry! You haven't a moment to waste." Then she was gone, dragging that bag on wheels behind her. Harry just stared at the space where she had been, and Percy shook his shoulder.

"Look, let's get back to your place, and then we can swap stories," he said, reaching down to haul Dudley from the ground. Harry nodded, still staring off at the spot were the woman had walked away from. With a grunt, Percy got Dudley's arm around his shoulder, and he and Harry started back for number 4, Privet Drive, dragging Dudley between them.


	3. Chapter 3

The hall light was on when Percy and Harry finally made it back to the house. Dudley was still extremely pale, his mouth opening and closing but no sound coming from it. Harry had been quiet the whole walk back, a thoughtful look on his face, leaving Percy to try to direct them. Luckily this part of Surrey was well signposted, otherwise they probably would have gotten very lost and that would have had Sally and Petunia calling the police to find them. Harry stowed away his stick in the waistband of his jeans as they walked up the path to the front door. Reaching out, Percy rang the doorbell, then stepped back, hoisting Dudley a little so he could better shoulder the other boy's weight.

“Diddy! And about time too, I was getting quite – _Diddy, what's the matter_?” Petunia had opened the door. As one, Percy and Harry looked sideways at their cousin, and ducked out just in time. Dudley swayed for a moment, before falling to his knees, opening his mouth, and vomiting all over the welcome mat. “Vernon! VERNON!” Petunia's voice was a shriek, and brought all the adults out of the living room. Sally headed the ground, and when she saw the three teenagers, her face paled and her hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes met Percy's, asking questions silently to which Percy could only shake his head and shrug in return. Vernon and Paul helped to bring Dudley into the house, avoiding the puddle of sick. Percy and Harry nipped in just behind them, carefully dodging the sick themselves. Someone would really need to clean that up, but the adults were all more focused on the ill Dudley.

“You haven't been mugged, have you son?” Vernon's voice was filled with care, which actually surprised Percy a little. He wasn't surprised by Petunia's scream, or her rambled yelling about getting the phone, running around the main room without really doing anything helpful. She was in shock, and people in shock tended to do odd things. Apart from Sally's silent questioning, he and Harry hadn't really been noticed, so he took the opportunity to grab Harry's arm.

“Think we should have that little talk now, don't you?” he asked. Harry looked into the room where Dudley was sitting, and then looked back at Percy. He nodded.

“Yeah, alright, but can we make it quick, 'cause...”

“BOY! COME HERE!” Harry winced, and slowing turned and walked into the room, Percy followed behind. After the darkness they had just been through, everything here seemed too bright and too clean but it didn't really occur to him to mention it. He was still slightly on fight mode, and his nerves tingled, waiting for a new monster to fight. Judging by the anger that had been in the yell from Vernon, he might just get one. He tried to block out Sally's panicked look as he determinedly stepped behind Harry, ready for anything. Vernon was a walrus, an overgrown one, and the anger was turning him purple. “What have you done to my son?” The question was asked in such a menacing growl that Percy's fingers twitched automatically.

“Nothing,” said Harry. Harry knew perfectly well that unless he said exactly what Vernon wanted to hear, he wouldn't be believed. Frankly, he was in no mood to claim responsibility for something the Dementors did, and even if he had been in the mood, he knew better than to put himself in a position that would end up with him probably in a hospital bed, or out on the streets. Even if it was likely that either of those situations were probably going to happen anyway, if he was any decent judge of his Uncle's mood. Petunia continued to fret over Dudley, asking him in a high-pitched and loud voice what had happened to him.

“Did he use – his _thing_?” It was interesting, Harry noted, how she managed to make her voice so loud but so quiet and fearful at the same time. He wondered if it was a special trick of mothers, he was sure Mrs Weasley had used a similar tone last summer after the Death Eater attack at the Quidditch World Cup. Though still unable to talk, Dudley was slowly coming back round to being himself again, and could comprehend the questions he was being asked. Harry wasn't really surprised, not really, when Dudley nodded slowly.

“I didn't! I didn't do anything to him, it wasn't me, it was-” Harry tried to protest but Vernon's fists were already raised. He felt himself being pulled back, and then Percy was stood in front of him, stance defensive. Harry blinked, jumping a little when he felt gentle hands on his shoulders. He turned, and was surprised to see Sally's look of concern. One of her hands reached up, and touched his cheek lightly, eyes asking the question that any _responsible_ guardian would have asked: are you okay? He nodded, and was given a nod in return, her smile tight. He found himself distracted though, by just what Percy was saying.

“You wanna hit someone?” Percy was directly in front of Harry, and was not going to be moved easily. “You hit me then. I'm more your size anyway,” he made a move as if to jut forward, just to see if it would scare Vernon any. “Harry said he didn't do anything, and he didn't. I was there too, or are you forgetting that so you can show how much of a big man you are by hitting a kid?” Paul had moved forward by this point, touching Percy's shoulder to tell him enough. Percy shrugged him off, and continued to glare fiercely at Vernon, who was now looking like it didn't quite matter which of the dark haired, green eyed boys he hit, as long as he got to hit one of them. Percy wasn't bothered. Let the walrus hit him, he could hit back harder.

At that moment, before things could escalate any further, an owl flew in through the kitchen window. Percy looked confused, mostly because he was wondering why Athena would have a problem with him standing up for someone getting hit for no reason, but the owl flew past Vernon's head, dropping the thing it was carrying between Percy and Harry, directly at Harry's feet. It then turned and left, though not before throwing Percy a look that let him know that yes, he was being watched. He didn't throw the hand gesture at the owl he wanted to.

“OWLS! OWLS AGAIN! I WILL NOT HAVE ANY MORE OWLS IN MY HOUSE!” Vernon bellowed, rushing to the kitchen window and slamming it shut with such a force that the glass shook in its pane. If it had shattered, none present would have been at all surprised. Harry's heart was beating in his throat as he picked up the parchment with nervous, shaking fingers. He opened it, and read through the letter. “EVERYTHING TO DO WITH THAT BOY-”

“Vernon!” Petunia said sharply, jerking her head in the direction of their guests who were still there, and looking completely confused by the turn of events. Well, Sally and Paul were looking confused, Percy still looked angry and kept shooting glances out of the window, like he was expecting someone to appear out of nowhere. Petunia assumed this was just because the boy – misguided as he was, if sticking up for the Freak was any suggestion – was confused by the sight of the owl. She expected they didn't really see them much in New York, not unless they went to one of those overpriced zoos. Terrible, messy, smelly things, zoos were. If it hadn't been for her Dudders keen interest in animals when he was younger, they would have never stepped foot into that zoo all those years ago. That zoo trip had started all this trouble. She should have stuck with her instincts and taken Dudders and Piers to the cinema instead, but Dudders was so _keen_ , and they did say an interest in animals was a good sign, educationally speaking. She stood, placing down the cloth she'd been trying to wash Dudley up with. “Sally, Paul,” she said, “perhaps you had better call for that taxi...”

“We're not going anywhere,” Percy answered for them.

“Percy!” Sally shot at him. Percy looked up at his Mom, but fell silent, looking towards the ground, fists clenching and unclenching, as his jaw tightened, clear he wanted to say something but knew better than to go against his Mom when she used that tone. “Percy's right.” Sally's voice was calm, but with a definite edge to it. It was an edge that, some would say, could make the Gods themselves tremble. The fact that it had actually made Poseidon consider momentarily just how immortal ' _immortal_ ' actually meant was neither here nor there. “We're not going anywhere till we all get to the bottom of what happened tonight.” Petunia missed the slight glance Sally gave Percy. If she had caught it, she would immediately have latched on to the idea that it was all the fault of her cousin's delinquent son and thrown him from the house. “Now, if we all just remain calm...”

“Exactly,” Paul put in his words of support. “Calm, and reasonable, and I'm sure we'll get a clear answer from the bo-”

“Where d'you think you're going? I haven't finished with you boy!” Vernon bellowed at Harry, who had turned away from the group, and pulled out that stick thing again, Percy noticed, and moved to leave the kitchen. There was an odd look on Harry's face, like he wasn't completely aware of what he was doing, but knew it had to be done anyway. Annabeth called it going through the motions, and said it was an automatic instinct, usually in response to some kind of shock. Percy bent to pick up the letter, wondering what was in it that would have made Harry so shocked that he'd go into an automatic situation. He didn't read the letter. One glance at the writing on the heavy parchment – yes, he could tell it was parchment – showed it to be small, and crushed. In short: the type of handwriting that was not particularly good for a demigod to try to be reading in English. If it had been in Ancient Greek, then he might have stood a chance.

“If you don't get out of my way, I'm going to jinx you.” Harry had raised the stick thing by this point, as he and Vernon had continued talking while Percy had taken the time to stared blankly at the parchment. _Jinx_ him? Then... Harry was a child of Hecate. They used jinxes, though Percy was almost completely totally sure that he'd never seen any of those kids using a stick – it must be a wand, his mind suggested – to use their magic. He'd ask Lou-Ellen, next time he was talking to her. Wait. When Hecate kids jinxed someone, it was a big thing. Chiron had been very, _very_ vocal about how jinxes were to only be used in the right circumstances and _not_ because there was a prank war with the Hermes kids. Even if the rest of the Camp had bets on. _Especially_ if the rest of the Camp had bets on.

“Harry, you don't have to jinx anyone,” Percy stepped forward. “Just put down the, ah, you guys call it a wand, right?” He gestured at the wand with a bit of confusion. He hadn't _not_ heard of Hecate kids using a wand, but the few that he'd known personally... Well, they hadn't exactly been fighting on the same side. “Put it down, and we'll be able to deal.”

“You know about this freakishness?” Vernon's anger had turned on Percy for a moment. Percy stepped forward, and the older man seemed to rethink whatever he was going to say to him. Vernon jerked a thumb in the direction of Harry. “The boy can't pull that one on me anyway, I know he's not allowed to do magic outside of that _madhouse_ he calls a school.” Percy paused, and turned to stare at his Mom's cousin's husband – and yeah, thinking of him that way kept a difference that Percy needed to keep. Whatever was in that stare of Percy's, it made Vernon step back, if only for a moment, face pale.

“How about you just shut up, and let someone who actually gives a damn try to deal with the kid?” Percy's fingers were digging into his palms. He wanted to punch Vernon, a lot, and he wasn't entirely sure that his Mom would be able to stop him if he started. “Or you just looking for an easy target? How about I give you a bit of a challenge instead, wouldn't that be a difference?” Yeah, okay, once he had calmed down and was able to look at this moment with the benefit of hindsight, Percy would remark that he really should have signed up for those anger management sessions Chiron had suggested, but at that particular moment, he was fine with the anger rushing through him.

So fine with it, in fact, that he was happily ignorant of the fact that Sally and Paul were both trying to pull him back, and that Harry still had a grip like death on his wand, face a whiter shade of pale, and that Petunia was still shrieking over Dudley who was slowly coming back round to himself but still looked like he had tried to go a round with the Hulk because his title meant he was better than the huge green guy. Actually, it was a surprise that – considering the noise levels within the walls of number 4, Privet Drive - none of the neighbours had come banging on the doors to demand to know what was wrong, or the police hadn't been called because clearly something illicit was going on and must have had something to do with the criminal boy poor Mr. and Mrs Dursley tried their best to care for. What did manage to grab Percy's attention was an entirely new voice, from just outside in the hall, speaking clearly.

“You know, it's been a while since I've personally been in England, but I'm almost _positive_ this kind of decorating was consigned to the history books then.” To be fair to Percy, that actually managed to grab _everyone's_ attention. “I mean, it's charming, very... charming, but not really my tastes. Now... Jackson? Where are you, kid? I've got a message for you, and oh boy, this one's a biggie.” And with that, Hermes stepped into the living-slash-dining room that made up the front room of number four. “Well, as I am immortal and send messages, Sally Jackson! You have just refused to age a day since Uncle Poseidon laid eyes on you, haven't you? Paul, you're a lucky, lucky man. Treat her well, she's a keeper.” Sally blinked, her mouth opening and closing a couple of times, taken aback by this, and Paul just looked a bit confused – a sight that some of his students would have paid good money to see.

“...Hermes?” Percy sounded a bit unusual. A rather perfect mix of confusion, anger, and sheer dumb founded '...what'. Not that anyone could really hear that, not over Vernon. It could be well neigh impossible to hear anything when Vernon got started. Considering that, people could well be forgiven for wondering why the police had never been called to number four before. Perhaps they had been, but like had once happened to the teacher that had called the social services out of concern for Percy, nothing had come of it. For those with unusual talents, unusual things tended to happen. To put it into as simple terms a possible.

“HOW DARE YOU ENTER MY HOME!” Vernon's face was purple and so overinflated that Percy could picture it popping right there and then. Really, really, he knew he should have warned his Mom's cousin's husband about yelling at a God but... the guy was ready for hitting Harry over a monster attack, and since both his Mom's cousin and her husband seemed to be aware of the fact that Harry was a child of Hecate, yeah, Percy was just kind of regretting that he didn't have popcorn for the inevitable smiting that was going to happen. Yeah, he knew that was more Zeus' domain, but no God likes being yelled at by a mortal. “I DON'T KNOW WHAT PASSES FOR MANNERS AMONG YOU _FREAKS_...” Hermes got a vaguely annoyed look on his face and flicked two fingers in Vernon's direction. While the walrus continued to yell, no noise came out.

“I'm sorry, but that voice just grates, and I really don't have a lot of time here. Tight schedule, important message, and a strong warning that this had to be done personally rather than by one of my helpers,” Hermes rubbed his forehead, looking for all the world as if he were just a normal guy trying to stave off an incoming migraine. “So, Jackson, grab your lookalike cousin, because we have places to be and we should have been there about five minutes ago.” At that he gave a grimace. “Magical wards, they always mess up the directions.” Hermes looked out at the group, who were just looking back at him. “You may begin your questions now.”

“What do you mean, we've got places to go?” Percy said. That was overlapped by Harry's angry voice.

“I'm not going anywhere that I don't chose to go!” Fair enough, Hermes was a relative stranger to the guy, but it was Petunia who caught the attention of the God.

“What on Earth have you done to my husband?!” Bonus points, Hermes' arrival had _finally_ made her stop her shrieking. Instead she spoke with a quiet, fearful, wavering voice as she looked with worry over at Vernon who was opening and closing his mouth, expecting noise to come but none would. He looked over at Petunia pleadingly, not daring to look in the direction of the 'freak' – his words – that did this to him, because knowing those types of people, it was only the beginning – he could still remember that horrible giant oaf of a man giving their poor Dudley a pig's tail. Of all things! “I don't know who you think you are,” Petunia's voice shook more as she spoke, and she shook herself, but she was still standing her ground, making Percy realise that yeah, she really was related to his Mom, “but in this household we do not use that... unnatural behaviour on other people!”

“And locking a child under a staircase for, let's say, eleven years – it wasn't even a month off it anyway,” Hermes said, “do we define that as unnatural behaviour among you mortals or have I missed some new parenting trend?” Sally let out a noise of rage, turning with fury on her face to her cousin. Hermes, seemingly unaware to the bombshell he just revealed, wandered over to the fireplace and picked up one of the pictures, wrinkling his nose at it, before sitting it down again. “'Cause I got to tell you, either way, Uncle Hades is _really_ not pleased about the whole locking one of his grandkids under the stairs thing.”

“You locked him _under the stairs?!_ For nearly _eleven years?!_ ” Sally all but screamed. “Petunia Evans, how could you even _think_ of doing that to your sister's son! Her only child!” She turned to Harry, eyes wide with concern, worry, shame, and apologies that could never make up for what had been done to him. “Oh Harry, _Harry_.” Her voice broke looking at her young cousin. His eyes were so like his mother's. “Lily would never have... If I knew... If someone told me...” her voice faltered, as her hand covered her mouth, turning to Paul as she shook with tears that wouldn't fall. Paul didn't speak – what could he say? He looked over at Harry, who seemed to be frozen to the spot. Harry hadn't told _anyone_ about living under the stairs, not even Ron, and he was his best friend. When the letter from Hogwarts came with his cupboard already written on it... Well, okay, so he had later learned that the letters were addressed by an auto-Quill, but it had made it clear in his mind not to let anyone know. And, somehow, this man, this complete stranger, _knew_?!

“Wait,” Percy sounded confused. “What's Hades got to do with this?” He was asking the man, who he seemed to be on a more familiar basis with. There was something about the man that did make Harry feel... well, small. Also, did he use the word 'mortals'? People actually used that word? Harry had usually placed that word in the lexicon of cliché evil that seemed to be in nearly every movie he heard Dudley watch – though he did want to check out _Star Wars_ , actually, that one sounded pretty good. Maybe 'mortals' was a bit more Ming the Merciless. Didn't seem like a word this man – who was in a well tailored suit, even if he did look a bit on the exhausted side and it was kind of late at night to still be in business attire – would be using. “Harry's one of Hecate's, isn't he?”

“Hec-who?” Harry asked, looking at Percy with confusion. “I'm nobody's... whatever it is you think I am. I'm a _wizard_.” Petunia let out a little screech at the word, a response which made both Harry and Percy throw her annoyed looks. “I have _no_ idea what anyone is talking about, and I'm not going anywhere except out of this house, and as far away from the Dursleys as I can get.” The anger on his face was very clear, but unfortunately he found himself immediately distracted by the appearance of an owl; which flew in through the front window and paused in front of the man Percy called Hermes. If Harry didn't know any better, he would say the owl looked a little worried, and almost like it didn't want to deliver its message. But... that was impossible, right?

“A messenger owl?” Hermes laughed. ”You know, I haven't seen one of these in _years_.” He grinned a little at the owl, who was still flapping its wings as it waited in its spot, clearly seeking some sort of order. That wasn't anything Harry had ever seen before, and honestly, it made him a little wary of the people Percy seemed to know. “Oh, right, you've got a message. Well, if it's for the boy, you don't need to worry about it. Anyone else in the house, you go right ahead and deliver.” The owl gave a hoot and flew back out the window. Hermes blinked. “Well, lookalike, you've got people looking for you already. We really need to get moving.”

“I told you I'm not going anywhere!” Harry snapped. Hermes just looked, and then turned to Percy who held his hands up in a gesture that clearly meant that he was taking nothing to do with Harry's attitude. Actually, truth be told, Percy was pretty glad to see another demigod – wait, no, hang on...

“Wait, did you say a wizard?” Percy asked suddenly. There was another muttered shriek from Petunia who by this point had collapsed beside Vernon on the couch. For their part, Sally and Paul were sitting back at the dining table. Paul was talking quietly to Sally, who apparently was blaming herself for never trying to check in after she had heard – very belatedly – the news that Lily and her husband had passed, meaning that Petunia and Vernon had treated Harry so shamefully for all those years. Sally Jackson was an incredibly strong woman, and seeing his Mom so upset didn't exactly endear Percy to the person he already wanted to punch. “Is... that what you call a child of Hecate over here? Lou-Ellen said that you guys sometimes take different titles, but I figured that was more a whole... ego trip type thing?”

“ _What_ is he on about?” Petunia snapped, turning to Sally. “Well? What is it with this 'child of Hecate' rubbish when the boy is just a dangerous freak!” She breathed out, and shot a venomous look at Percy, the expression on her face making it seem as though he just brought the foulest thing possible into her house and left it sitting at her feet for her to deal with. “And judging by that language, he's not the only freak here. You never did tell us who his father was – at least Lily had the decency to marry the man whose child she got herself pregnant with...”

“Hey!” Percy yelled, stepping forward, though Hermes quickly held him back. Percy wasn't the only one that had moved, however. Paul had shot from his seat, yelling the same thing as his step-son, and looking far more angry than Percy could ever remember seeing the guy – and that included after some seniors nearly landed a visiting middle schooler in hospital after thinking it would be fun to 'accidentally' trip the kid near the stairs. As for Sally herself, well, it turned out it wasn't just a shotgun she was strangely adept with.

“Petunia Evans, don't you _dare_ say a word against my son,” she breathed. “And you can stop pretending that you don't know what's going on when I know for a fact you're as Clear-Sighted as I am.” Now, that was a surprise, as Petunia looked at Sally with a pale expression. “Oh, you think I had never noticed? That's the thing about being Clear-Sighted, you notice _everything_.” The whole room was focused on the two woman, or more precisely, on Sally Jackson finally, though no one knew it but her and Petunia and possibly Hermes but he wouldn't say either way, standing up to her cousin. “And if you think you can make like you don't recognise a God when you see one standing in your own home, then maybe that monster attack tonight was deserved – because you never took the time to warn your own child!”

“How _dare_ you!” Petunia stood and screamed back at Sally. Vernon's eyes had widened, and Dudley was now just being very, very quiet, looking at the floor. “I have spent my life trying to keep from the freakish behaviour you and Lily insisted on waving in my face. I will not have you use it to say that I would not protect my son! If it wasn't for Lily's _precious_ son, then Dudders would never have been in any danger! That man might be a God, but that boy,” a long, bony finger was pointed viciously at Harry at this point, “is _no_ demigod!”

“But I _am_.” Percy said. “And if you yell at my Mom again, it'll be the last thing you do.” His voice was quiet, and it was the quiet that did it. All the mortal adults turned to look at Percy, who was standing tall, and for a moment, Harry saw his Aunt's eyes widen in genuine fear. “Hermes,” Percy kept his eyes on Petunia, but placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, “if we've got to be somewhere, then we'll go. But you got to make me a promise – just one.”

Hermes gave a small nod. “I guess I can stretch to one favour for the Hero of Olympus,” he said. The use of the title was deliberate, Percy knew that, but he just didn't know the reason why. Especially when that war was the last thing he wanted in his mind at that moment. He wouldn't dare to take a guess about Hermes' thoughts on the whole thing. “So, what are you asking for, kid? I feel like I should quickly point out that the little gift Dad offered is something I can't, for obvious reasons and y'know, don't really want him getting angry at me – you've seen what his punishments can be like.” Percy gave a mirthless laugh.

“Nothing that big,” he said. He looked at Harry. “You don't want to live here?” Slowly, Harry nodded. Frankly, he was reeling a bit. Percy was a _demigod_. Gods were real, and Percy was the son of one. So... when he kept calling the man Hermes, then was the Hermes standing in the Dursley's living room the Hermes that Harry had read about back in primary school? And he – Harry – was somehow related, he thought Hermes said, to a God himself? None of it made any sense. “And they haven't ever wanted you here?” Percy was checking, and again Harry nodded. There was a darkness in his cousin's green eyes that reminded Harry of a storm. “Fine. Hermes? The only thing I want is any help we need to get Harry into Mom's custody.” Percy looked over at Petunia and Vernon. “They don't want him? Fine. We're not assholes, and like you said... family's complicated, but it's still family. He can live with us.”

Percy didn't need to look to know that his Mom would agree, and that Paul would agree as well. Hermes was quiet for a moment – probably because Percy threw his own words at him, but desperate times. “That I can't promise, kid,” Percy shot his head round, eyes narrowing. Hermes looked apologetic. “There's more to this, and much as I'd like to get lookalike out from this house, I'm under orders. You'll get the reason tonight, that I can promise you.” Another owl flew through the window, this one carrying a red letter. “And going by that sign, we need to go. Now.” Hermes placed a hand on Percy's shoulder, and one on Harry's. “My advice? Close your eyes. God-travel is a bit blinding. And yeah, I do mean everyone close your eyes.”

The rest barely had time to get their eyes shut when the bright light started, and Percy, Harry, and Hermes were gone. Vernon found his voice had returned, though from all the shock he could barely speak. Eventually he managed out a soft, “Petunia? Petunia, pet, what did that man mean? Gods? Demigods, all stories... aren't they?” He found himself on the end of a very scathing look from Sally Jackson, and a slightly more sympathetic one from Paul Blofis. “...Aren't they?”

“It's... a long story,” Paul said. “And it's not mine to tell you.” Petunia's gaze hadn't lifted from the red letter that the owl had dropped into her lap. It shrunk in its smoulder and she jumped in her seat.

“ _Remember my last, Petunia._ ”

“Looks like there's more than one story needing told,” Sally said. “Who wants to put on the coffee?”

 


End file.
